by Joey W. Hill
As Matt laid the belt in her open palm, he touched her cheek. Though her eyes remained lowered, she could feel her flesh warm under that contact. “You’re a blessing to your Master,” he said quietly. “To all of us.”
They knew, they all did, her weaknesses and her strengths. That the well of her soul, empty for so long and yet so much fuller now, still welcomed such approbation like water in the desert, a reinforcement of her worth, to herself and them.
“Thank you, sir.” She meant it, enough she choked up a little. Fortunately, he moved back to his chair, so she could turn back to her assigned task before her emotions overtook her. His hand whispered along her lower back, a parting reassurance.
She wrapped the belt around Dana’s legs above her knees and tightened it. She saw Dana twitch, her lips part, and knew the restraint had caught her attention, as it would have Rachel. Everything started to narrow when things were strapped down, restrained, immobilized.
Rachel looked toward her Master. “May I wear the shoes again, sir?”
“You surely may.” Once again, Jon bade her stay there as he brought them to her. He even knelt and put them on her feet. He buckled the straps himself. It gave her that same narrowing down feeling, which was her intention. Jon ran his hands over her calf, to the back of her knee and then over her backside, fingers dipping in to tease her rim and make her sway against his touch before he pulled back. “Better?”
“Yes, sir.” She bit her lip as he rose, curled his fingers under her collar and pulled her to him to taste her mouth. Her fingers tightened on Dana’s tether she’d wrapped around her hand again.
“Good. I like the way you look in them. We all do.”
He returned to his chair and she took a breath. She knew what she wanted to do, didn’t know if it was right or wrong, but she liked the way it made her feel, thinking about it. And Jon had taught her if she liked the way it felt, it could never be wrong for either of them.
Putting a knee up on the table, Rachel moved the short distance necessary to be standing on her knees in front of Dana’s face. Gripping the pink cock, she feathered it up over Dana’s lips.
“I want you to get it slick. I’m going to add lubricant, but you’re going to get it started.”
Dana’s lips parted, and Rachel pushed inward, slow, stopping when she came close to the back of Dana’s throat. The woman took over from there, easing down further, licking and giving the moist heat of her mouth to the toy. As she did, the same submissive training that had Rachel getting aroused so quickly, so soon after the last climax, obviously gripped Dana as well. Her body twitched, hips lifting. Matt had the premium view again, seeing the treasure between Dana’s legs.
No, not just him. Rachel had been focused on Dana, but she realized every man at the table had moved into a position to enjoy the show. Chairs had been adjusted into a semi-circle at this end. Rachel tugged on the tether, bringing Dana a few steps toward the center of the table, giving her room to move behind her on her knees and still be on the mat. She dropped the tether, then guided it back between Dana’s knees. She wrapped and secured it around the belt holding Dana’s legs together above the knee. When she tightened it, Dana had to drop her head lower, dip her chin toward her chest.
“Damn, Jon,” Lucas murmured. “She’s giving me some good ideas of what to do to Cass tonight.”
“No one can imagine better than a submissive what another submissive craves,” Matt noted.
Jon was silent, but Rachel saw that was because he was watching everything she was doing on a different level from the others. He was gauging not only what she was doing, but why, and how it affected her, how it felt. She was the center of his attention. Her self-consciousness melted away. She was feeling stronger, more powerful. Wanting to drive not only his desire, but that of everyone else at the table. Including herself.
Was this a hint of what he felt, what all the Doms felt, when they commanded the pleasure of their subs? If so, it was a place she liked visiting for that understanding. Even as she had no doubt she’d always want to be on the other side of that coin, receiving that drive to dominate, to have her pleasure controlled and directed.
But she hadn’t left that realm, even now. The building power and pleasure within her were under the umbrella of his Dominance, and that of the other men in the room.
She used the tube of lubricant that had been provided, making sure the strap-on would slide into Dana comfortably. Placing her hands on the woman’s curved buttocks, she stroked. Remembering Jon’s touch and now wondering if it had been a suggestion, a hint, she played with Dana’s rim, and received a jerk of titillating response.
“You like that?” she purred, and Dana nodded her head, as much as the taut tether allowed, which wasn’t much.
“Sometimes,” Rachel said, in a breathless voice, “A good girl does dream about taking the bad girl down. Making all her toughness go away, become soft. Something to care for and cuddle. Hold.”
Dana licked her lips, and wondrously, a tremor ran through her. Rachel ran her fingers down the valley of her spine like she was playing a piano’s keys, all the way to Dana’s neck and back again.
“Give yourself to me,” Rachel said. “I want to be inside you, Dana.”
Dana lifted her hips in mute answer. Rachel fitted the head of the toy against her opening. Easing, easing, no problem at all. She sank deep, Dana obviously well-versed in anal, though the groan that broke from her mauve lips was gratifying. Rachel gripped her hips, thrust a little deeper, then she withdrew almost all the way, past the second ring of muscles, at the edge of the first, before she reversed course.
That got a definite response. Something like a small shriek, another quiver of reaction. So she did it again. And again. Really slow, fascinated by the odd cries that came from Dana at the sensations, different but no less intense than when her cunt was being stimulated. Her nipples were hard points, and Rachel curved over her to caress and tweak them, knowing if they were like hers, they’d still be highly sensitive from the clamps they’d worn most of the session.
Dana cursed but pushed against her, so Rachel thrust deep again. Then started her slow withdraw and thrust torture. Dipping her hand down, she found Dana was soaking wet, likely dripping on the mat. Rachel had a fine sheen of sweat on her own body, but she could also feel her own arousal gathered like dew on her cunt beneath the strap-on, her clit throbbing beneath the pressure.
“Gentlemen, I think it’s time we take that break. Thank you, Peter and Jon. For sharing two such incomparable slaves with us tonight.”
Matt’s voice came from her right. Savannah’s Master surprised her by curling his hand in her hair and tipping her head back to stare into his dark eyes before he brushed a kiss on her forehead. “Well done,” he murmured.
Lucas likewise dropped a kiss on her shoulder, followed by Ben, on her hip. Dana was given similar caresses. Peter released the belt above Dana’s knees, untying the tether from it before he handed the belt back to Matt. The man took it, nodded to Jon, and then withdrew with the other two, leaving just Peter and Jon in the room with her and Dana.
Rachel closed her eyes, a shudder of pleasure going through her as Jon’s hands closed over her hips. This time it was him controlling her movements, drawing her all the way out, then reversing so she pushed back in, Dana crying out.
As he did that, Jon loosened the strap that ran between her legs. She trembled again as his touch probed deeper to unhook that strap from the base of the harness holding the dildo. Trust her man to be sure it had that kind of detachable feature, so that there’d be no chafing impediment to what he desired, while no interruption to what she was giving Dana.
Rachel noted the lights had been dimmed by someone as they left, increasing the sense of erotic intimacy. Her breath was shortening again, her heart thumping as the significance of their two Masters alone being in the room built anticipation.
Peter propped his hips on the table to toe off his shoes and stripped off his shirt, with a ri
pple of thick muscle across his back. Rachel leaned down to speak in Dana’s ear again.
“Your Master has taken off his shirt. He’s going to take you while I’m inside of you.”
A tiny noise broke from Dana’s lips that made Peter’s gray eyes get darker. He shifted further back on the table and swung his legs up. Rachel watched the unexpected grace of his movements, the bunching of his biceps, as he slid himself beneath Dana. The blind woman braced her hands on his chest, while his long legs parted to border both women, his feet brushing Rachel’s calves.
“Hand me her tether,” he ordered Rachel. Rachel complied, feeding it back under her body. Peter grasped the end and slid it all the way out from under Dana, only to wrap it around his fist, which he had pressed against his sub’s throat. If he slid back up, just a short distance, Dana would be right over his jean-clad groin, a tempting position that made Rachel wonder if he’d choose Dana’s mouth over her cunt. However, though neither he nor Jon were commanded by Ben’s choices, they didn’t seem to disagree with them.
With amazing synchronicity, Peter and Jon adjusted her and Dana to fit their intent. When she turned her head to her shoulder to look back at her Master, he gave her a wink and pressed some kind of hidden control under the rosewood layer of the table. A whir of gears and then she made a little yelp of surprise as the thick glass beneath her dropped. She clutched his arm around her waist before she realized he’d adjusted their section of the table down like a shallow ramp.
“I’d never let you fall, Rachel,” her Master murmured in her ear.
He wouldn’t. Though her heart did a funny bounce the way her stomach just had, as she registered his intent. Because of the change in angle, Jon would now be able to have her while he remained standing on the floor, her on her knees on the table.
As soon as the table had steadied, Peter lifted Dana, having her straddle his groin. Jon moved Rachel with them, so she didn’t have to pull out of Dana, except for an adjustment that caused the woman to make another aroused moan.
“Open my jeans and take me out,” Peter ordered his sub.
Rachel was captured by the sight and feel of it as Dana complied with fumbling fingers, her coordination less than stellar from the arousal that gripped them all. As she did it, Peter twisted his fingers in the collar Dana wore, much as Rachel had done it. But the ripple of response Dana had to her doing it couldn’t compare to the vibrating stillness that swept Dana’s body as her Master held her by that symbol of ownership.
“You with me, Sergeant?” Peter asked softly. Though Rachel couldn’t see Dana’s face, she could see the laser intensity of Peter’s gaze. Dana’s answer was throaty and emotional.
“Always.”
His gaze softened, and he released the collar to brush her face with his fingertips. “Then put me inside you. I’ve been dying to fuck you since this night started.”
Rachel’s own sex contracted in reaction as she felt the outside movements Dana made to handle taking her Master’s substantial cock inside her. An effort that was increased by having the strap-on phallus already inside her rectum.
Rachel slid an arm around her waist, helping, and Dana made a noise of appreciation and desire both. It was unforgettable, having the view of Peter’s concentrated expression as his sub slid down on him, inch by inch; feeling Dana’s reaction as she took him.
But there was more. There was always more to experience, to savor. Jon stroked Rachel’s hips, her buttocks, and she closed her eyes as her Master bent to brush kisses on the backs of her knees, her thighs, her buttocks. When he parted and put his mouth between them, Rachel jerked and thrust in involuntary reaction, which wrested a matching cry from Dana’s throat.
“Playing dirty back there,” Peter chuckled, a sexy, deep sound. “Dana’s cunt just squeezed me like a vise. Keep doing that, brother.”
Rachel was glad for the strength in Jon’s hands that held her up. Her hips were moving in his grasp, forcing rough, erratic thrusts of the strap-on into Dana as Peter held her down on him, apparently deep enough to have Dana making hot little pleading whimpers.
Jon straightened, hands gliding along Rachel’s back and arms. Then his touch withdrew, but only to prepare himself, if the sound of his jeans being unzipped and the rustle of fabric were any indication. Rachel’s fingers flexed on Dana’s hips in reaction.
“Now, ladies,” Jon whispered, pressing close to Rachel, letting her feel the brush of his heated length along her buttock, “You don’t move except how your Masters move you. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” came from them both, though there was a desperation in Dana’s tone that told Rachel how close she already was. She no longer wondered at how often and fast Jon and the K&A men could take a woman to that peak, but she was constantly amazed at the creative variety of ways they did it.
Then that thought and any other disappeared as Jon put his hand on her back, fingers spreading out, conveying heat and demand, so that she bent further over Dana, their two bodies now canted at the same angle, which allowed her Master to stroke between her legs with the tip of his cock. She was wet and ready, and he slid into her cunt, a perfect fit that filled her up. She let out an unsteady breath, a quiet note of sound that matched Dana’s plea.
“I second Peter’s comment. I wanted to be inside you like this, every moment since you entered the building tonight. Since we watched you get undressed in front of the bathroom mirror. All I could think about was you’re mine, and I wanted you now, and always.”
She made a soft moan as he pressed in deeper. His voice became stern to underline his will. Their will. “Your Masters have been generous and allowed you to come. Now you’ll hold off until we’re done.”
Dana bit off a curse, and somehow translated it into “Yes, sir,” though Peter chuckled again.
“Going to get into trouble with that one, Sergeant.”
“I didn’t hear you, Rachel,” Jon said, and thrust deeper.
“Goddess…yes, Master.”
She hadn’t thought she was as close as Dana, but when Jon started to move, and the pressure of his hands and body pushed her into Dana again, so the phallus pressed harder against her clit, she realized she was wrong. Peter and Jon wanted them to work for this one. That ruthless side of the Masters was evident here, albeit cloaked in velvet seduction and caresses.
Peter released Dana’s hip, his other hand still wrapped in the tether. With the free one, he gripped Rachel’s hair, hard, adding to the force of the movements he and Jon were controlling. With the pressure on the tether, Peter was making Dana lift and come back. Her soft cries were starting to build. Rachel wasn’t going to be able to hold out. She, oh Goddess…
Peter and Jon stopped, holding them still, and Jon dropped a kiss on Rachel’s shoulder. “Take a moment to breathe, sweet girl,” he murmured. “Just breathe.”
Once again, she had to admire the men’s ability to coordinate. They had to have made deals with the devil, because no mortal male had this kind of control. Or such synchronicity was as much a part of the charge for them as the sex itself, so they’d dedicated themselves to perfecting it for their own pleasure.
They teased one another unmercifully, but they were one of the most closely-knit group of men she’d ever met. Sometimes they almost didn’t seem to need to communicate in words; they picked up on what each wanted or needed, like a thought that continued in each brain, a thread of connection.
“Like a telepathic wolf pack,” Cass had observed once. Rachel didn’t disagree.
But the men’s bond with one another was intricately tied to the way they shared and protected the women they loved, with an all-encompassing passion and ferocity. It was as much a part of it as the rest.
Tonight only made her more sure of it, though an unexpected spurt of humor shot through her, muddled in the lust, as she remembered how the topic had been addressed on one of their girls’ nights.
“They don’t share women as an entire group unless she’s the one that will belong to o
ne of them forever,” Dana said, when Cass had wondered about it. “Peter told me that.”
“Yeah, but how did that come about?” Cass queried.
“I’m sure it was an executive meeting. Janet has it recorded in the minutes somewhere,” Savannah offered, an amused sparkle in her blue eyes. “Peter proposed that there be a protocol whenever a member of the team chooses his forever sub. Ben seconded, and there was a brief discussion, after which it was agreed that the chosen woman should have at least one over-the-top sexual encounter with all five of them, to make it official. And then, forever after, said woman would be kept insanely safe from everything. Hurricanes to hangnails. The motion passed unanimously before the lunch break.”
Then humor was overwhelmed by pure sensation as Jon retreated, thrust. Gripped her hips, pressed his mouth between her shoulder blades. Peter tightened his grip, pulling on her scalp in a demanding way that made her lose her train of thought. Her sanity.
But she couldn’t climax until they went, so she had to figure out a way to hold back. Desperately looking for something to get her body’s spiral of reaction under control, she took her gaze away from Peter and Dana, because that certainly wouldn’t help. Instead, she let her fevered gaze slide over the room, the plants, the fountain, the bank of windows through which she could see the Mississippi.
It didn’t help. This was a room that emanated the power and sexual mastery of the men who met here. Savannah and Cass had both had their defining moments with the men in these rooms. Jon had even implied that tonight was happening because she and Dana had not had that experience. Because their circumstances, how they’d come into the inner circle, had been a little different. Savannah and Cass had been on the same playing field, Savannah the CEO of Tennyson Industries, and Cass an extraordinary corporate negotiator.